| The Chicken's Execution |
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Heart! ~ If you are not a subscriber and this has been passed on to you, join us by sending a blank e-mail to four_ears @ msn.com (remove spaces) with "subscribe" in the subject line. And get the love direct! Tour our web site: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001 ________________________________________________________ "Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, 'I think I'll squeeze these dangly things here and drink whatever comes out?'" -- Unknown ________________________________________________________ THE CHICKEN'S EXECUTION Betty King I'm not a vegetarian, but I'm considering it. I don't eat much beef. I prefer chicken. I like the white meat and eat it baked, fried, roasted, boiled, or broiled. I like it with dumplings, too. My first association with chickens was when I was just a little girl. My grandma, my dad's mother, raised them. I don't remember eating any of grandma's chickens though. She raised them for the eggs they laid. The baby chicks were my playmates. I held them, swung them on my swing set, and talked to them. I liked the mother chickens, the hens; the daddy rooster scared me to death. When Dad was in WWII, Mom, my baby brother, and I lived next door to grandma and grandpa in a duplex. The chickens and I ran loose in grandma's yard. I didn't have a desire to eat them; they were my friends. Dad came home from the war, and we all moved from grandma and the chickens into our own house. I had new human playmates. I missed those chickens. Someone gave Dad a chicken, a hen. He brought it home and handed it to mom. Alive and kick'n! We didn't have any place to keep it. I was informed we weren't going to keep it – we were going to eat it! "Eat it!" Chickens were my friends not for eating! "Eat it?" "Yes, we have to wring its neck and then cook it." "What? Wring its neck?!" Now mom had been raised by her grandparents; her mother had died when she was just a little girl. They lived on a farm. Mom knew about eating chickens. Dad on the other hand lived in town. They always had chickens though, but they ate eggs. I remember thinking how do you wring a chickens neck? That's cruel! They're my friends! But I was going to watch. I was inquisitive. Dad was going to do it. I had to see this. The whole family gathered in the back yard of our city dwelling, all four of us. We were all going to watch the execution of one fat hen. "What do you wring its neck with, Mom?" "With hands, Betty Ann." "With bare hands?!!" "Yes." There we stood: Dad, the executioner, and us, the witnesses. Dad took that hen by the neck in his hands and lifted her up off the ground and gave it a swing over his head. I covered my eyes. Death to the hen! "Cluck, Cluck, CLUCK, CLUCK, CLUCK, CLUCK!!!" My eyes flew open about the same time that chicken FLEW out of Dad's hands and pandemonium began in our back yard! FEATHERS were FLYING. Mom was SCREAMING, "CATCH that CHICKEN!" My brother was LAUGHING, and I was HOLLERING, "RUN, CHICKEN, RUN!" Dad took out after that chicken, zigzagging back and forth through the neighborhood, his arms flapping, looking just like granny's big, old, red rooster. He was going to get that chicken, Mom was going to see to it! She was going to cook that sucker for dinner! Dad was gone for quite awhile. I stayed behind rooting for the chicken. Before sunset, Dad came dragging back exhausted that chicken under his arm, looking like it had undergone chemotherapy! Wasn't a lot of feathers had to be plucked off that chicken, believe you me! Mom took over where Dad left off. We let her. It was a private execution. We only peeked once. That chicken was doing a headless dance all over our back yard! Yeeks! Dad and I would rather eat eggs. They don't cluck, have feathers, or run! I don't remember when I started eating chicken, but every time I remember that failed execution in our backyard, I vow to become a vegetarian sooner or later! Betty King baking2 @ charter.net Copyright © 2002 by Betty King. All rights reserved. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ About the author: Betty King is a Heartwarmers Gem and a 2TheHeart writer of the month. Her first book "It Takes Two Mountains to Make a Valley," is soon to be released. Its sequel, "But - It Was in the Valleys I Grew," is currently in the publishers hands under review for publication as well. She can be reached at [email protected] for notification of their release. _________________________________________________________ QUOTE FROM LESSER KNOWN FOLKS "Mom, leftovers are my favorite food," declared my six-year-old son, Taylor. "Why do you say that?" "I love them so you don't have to work so hard to make us dinner!" - Barbie James _________________________________________________________ ON THE HOMEFRONT Happy 21st birthday hugs to my fun-loving nephew, Michael Hadfield, who is only five days older than our fun-loving niece, Robbi Dunkle! Happy birthday hugs, also, to our son, Ethan, who turns 7! "Hey, Ethan!" Stephen called out the other day. "Are you in Kindergarten or in first grade?" "Dad!" he replied, exasperated. "You mean, you don't remember?" "Kindergarten, right?" "No, Dad! I'm in first grade!" "No way! Oh, man! I forgot." Cody, overhearing the exchange, asked, "Is it because your brain's not working today, Dad?" _________________________________________________________ LOVE, JENNIFER I. OLIVER AND FAMILY four_ears @ msn.com "To live that in thy last long sleep, Smiles my be thine wile all around thee weep." - Nellie L. Wallace, June 24, 1873 _________________________________________________________ This E-mail may be forwarded in its entirety, but first ask the writer for permission before forwarding. Thank you for doing the decent thing! 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